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4

“I Need A Dollar”

Goldie

“These dishes were actually imported from Europe. The queen used them in one of her cottages. I was able to win them on auction; they are worth well over one hundred thousand dollars,” Rex educated me about his stupid ass plates.

All I heard was that they were a giant waste of money. The dishes were wretched. Some creepy square gold and red pattern ran along the edge that was supposed to symbolize family or some bullshit like that, I wasn’t quite sure because I zoned out halfway through the historic details of the dishes.

Who knew such a strong alpha male could be such a dork, with his collection of teacups, swords, and paintings. The more I saw of his house, the more I realized the man was a hoarder of old crap. Rugs from the White House that smelled like musty old man balls graced the floors, chairs from president’s houses that had permanent sweat stains on them, and books that didn’t even have pictures graced his house. Where were the sex swings, the crops, the lubes, and edible undies? Non-existent, unless you considered the pantaloons from a late Martha May type lady that were hanging in the hallway to be edible.

Fucking pantaloons.

“They’re just lovely,” I lied, as I envisioned breaking every last one of them.

There were so many collectibles in his house that I started devising a plan in my head last night to slowly steal items from his collection, so when I left, nothing in his house would be complete. It would be the ultimate burn. First thing to go, one of his damn teacups, and then one of the little silver spoons he collected. Why would someone need a mini spoon that they didn’t even eat with?

“Are you ready to go?” Rex asked, as he checked his watch.

“Yes, just let me grab my phone.”

“No phones,” Rex said. “Any kind of electronics that are taken in the club will be confiscated. We take our privacy very seriously. Every employee will be searched before entering.”

Well, fuck. Talk about uptight. There went my idea of getting proof of the whole operation.

“Not a problem,” I said causally. “Let’s go.”

Shit.

Rex eyed the table we were just eating at and said, “Are you going to clean your plate?”

I looked over at the paper plate Rex had given me with a dried out croissant on it. The man clearly didn’t trust me with his precious plates, which was evident by what I had to eat off of. Not that it bothered me…eating off of a paper plate; hell, I had once eaten off of an old sock. I’ve seen worse.

“Oh, sorry. Great thing about paper plates is you can just throw them out, unlike those king plates you have.”

“Queen. They are plates from the queen,” Rex corrected me.

“Oh, yeah, that old bird. Did you know she carries a purse around with her everywhere she goes? Like, hello, you’re the queen, what do you need a purse for? If you see something you like, you just bust out your queen card and it’s yours. What do you think she keeps in there? Lipstick, obviously, she’s not a beast, but do you think she has things like hand sanitizer? Gum maybe. Oh, wait, no. Do you know what she has? She totally has butterscotch candies. Classic Queenie and her butter…”

“Enough,” Rex said, growing angry. Hello, moody pants.

“Sorry,” I said weakly. “I ramble sometimes.”

“I suggest you don’t,” Rex said, as he walked out of the kitchen.

Touchy!

Wanting to break his dishes right then and there, I refrained, and followed after Rex to his garage, where he held the passenger side door open for me to one of his cars. At least his temper didn’t make him lose his chivalry.

Once Rex was inside the car himself, he strapped his seat belt on and started the car. Before he pulled out of the garage, he turned to me with a gentle look on his face and said, “I’m sorry about losing my temper back there, Kitten. I’m a little sensitive right now. We were supposed to hear about a property we are bidding on today, but because there were so many bids put on the table, the city will be evaluating every proposal and conducting interviews.”

He had to be talking about Lot 17, which meant Jett was most likely punching every wall he comes across from that news. I knew he was hoping to hear about the property soon, but of course, in true city fashion, the decision was pushed further back.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But an interview seems like it might be a good opportunity to talk about your plans. It looks like your business venture would bring a lot of jobs to the city.”

Everything directed toward Rex that came out of my mouth was a lie, but I felt it was necessary to boost the man’s ego every chance I got. The more I showed him I was Team Rex, the better.

He nodded and pulled out of the garage. “That’s a very valid point, Kitten.”

“Are you going to tell them about the club?” I asked, curious what their plans were.

“No, that won’t be a part of the proposal. The city officials who are interested in the club know about our plans, but that is more of an idea that stays behind closed doors.”

“I can understand that,” I answered, while Rex drove through the streets of New Orleans. “Where is your club now? I didn’t know there were so many gentleman’s clubs in New Orleans. How does one choose?”

“We own a building off of Canal Street that is covering as an apartment building, but really is the club inside. You’ll see.”

“So, then why move the club if you already have the space?”

“We would like to have more playrooms in the club; right now we only have four. We would also like to have a bigger floor show and hotel rooms for those who would like to take one of the girls for the night. Plus, we would like to have space to house the girls. Right now, they are going in and out of the building, and it’s starting to look suspicious.”

So, the man really didn’t have any original ideas whatsoever. Everything he was saying was an exact replica of the Lafayette Club, but just skankier.

Jett had rules and limitations for a reason…that was because the Lafayette Club was all about the girls and bettering their lives, while taking advantage of the rich and filthy. Masquerade wasn’t for the benefit of the employees. No, it was for the benefit of the owners, at least that’s what I could surmise from what Rex had already told me.

With each passing moment I spend with Rex, I’m starting to see how much of a self-centered man he actually is. I’m just glad I met Jett before Rex made his offer for me to be with him, because at the state in my life I was in back then, I would have said yes to him, and who knows where I would be right now? Especially after the conversation I overheard last night.

They wanted to make me the main attraction? What the hell did that mean? Was it like Diego’s club, where the girls performed stunts and had sex with someone on stage? That wouldn’t fly for me.

We rode in silence for the rest of the ride, only speaking occasionally about the weather. To say the man was a bore was an understatement. Why did I use to like this guy so much?

Rex pulled up in front of an old looking building made of brick that actually looked kind of creepy. There was one door in the front, and it was black with no windows. Yeah, I could see how scantily clad women walking in and out of this door would look suspicious. Jesus, I was even smart enough to know that you had to change the façade of the building to make it look less skeezy.

“See why we want a new building?” Rex stated, as he got out of his car and buttoned up his suit jacket. He walked around to my side, as he handed the keys to a valet, who had popped out of nowhere. Rex opened my door and held out his hand for me. Reluctantly, I took it in mine and let him lead me inside.

“How do the members get inside the building? Do they walk through this door? It doesn’t look very nice.”

“No, there’s a back entrance they use. We wouldn’t ask the members to walk through the front. We try to keep things as discreet as possible.”